Old Forest
by mpfan
Summary: Merry is told a story about the Old Forest


Title:                 Old Forest

Author:             mpfan

Archive:            not without permission, thanks

Disclaimer:

The characters and the Old Forest is not mine.  Everything is Tolkien's.  

A/N:

This is my first LOTR fic.  Please review.  I tried to stay true to canon, if not let me know and I'll fix it. 

If anyone can help me figure out the formatting for Word documents I would be forever grateful.  It won't take my ellipses or my italics.  HTML is better, but it double-spaces.  *scratches head, looks pitiful*  Help?  

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Merry stood near the hedge of the Old Forest, transfixed.  They said the trees could move here.  They said the trees spoke to each other.  They said the trees were evil.  They said…

"Merry!"  Merry froze, then slowly turned around.

"Merry!"  Saradoc repeated, quickly walking up to Merry.  "Stay away from the hedge, it is dangerous!"

"But, Da" Merry protested, as he fully faced his father. "I want to see the trees move!"

Saradoc picked up his young son and carried him back to the wagon.  "Ah, Merry," he sighed, "that adventurous spirit of yours will get you in trouble one of these days, mark my words."  He put the boy in the back of the wagon and knelt down so that he was at the same height as Merry.

"Listen to me well, son," Saradoc said.  "The Old Forest is no place for adventures.  I know how much you want to go in there, but the trees are dangerous.  Very dangerous.  Stay away from them!"

Saradoc shook his head.  Saying those words were like adding wood to the fire with Merry.  He had hoped his Brandybuck blood would balance out his Took blood, but so far it hadn't seemed to have happened.  

Merry grinned at his father.  He could well imagine what he was thinking.  His "adventures" had been the cause of many a lecture from Saradoc.  He also knew how much they both aggravated and amused him.  At least, that's what his mother told him.

Saradoc sighed again and smiled back.  He never could stay mad at the scamp for long.  Inwardly, he shuddered.  Already Merry had laid claim to the young son of Paladin as a companion.  He hated to think what mischief both would cause once the child left the cradle.

Saradoc climbed into the wagon and started home.  After awhile he spoke.  

"Merry," he said, "I want to tell you a story."  Merry turned to look at his father.  He liked his Da's stories.

"Once, a long time ago," Saradoc began, "there was a great battle, the likes of which had never been seen before in the Shire.  We hobbits are a peaceful people, rarely suspecting our neighbors.  So when the attack began we were taken by surprise.  We were not prepared and lost several families and homes in the battle."

"Who attacked us, Da?"  Merry asked as he sat there entranced.  

Saradoc looked at his son.  "The trees, Merry," he said.  "The trees attacked us."  Merry leaned forward as Saradoc began his story.

"It was before mine or my father's time.  The current Master of Brandy Hall was just settling down to enjoy his pipe when he heard a frantic voice calling.

_"'The trees are attacking the hedge!  They are trying to move into Buckland!'"_

"The Master sounded the horn.  AWAKE!  AWAKE!  FEAR! FIRE! FOE!  The horn sounded throughout all of Buckland and hobbits began pouring out of their smials with axes, pitchforks, knives, and daggers.  They too, had heard the voice.  A few hobbits even had swords that had been bought at Bree from the Big Folk—daggers as they are to them.  Every hobbit that had strength started hacking at the trees, chopping and hewing them down.  A few of the tweens tore leaves off the branches and broke off twigs.  Many became lost in the Forest and were never seen again.  

"It was a futile effort.  It is difficult enough to chop down one tree quickly enough when it is standing still.  It was nigh impossible to chop down thousands that were moving.  Yes, they were moving, though it was hard to tell.  Several hobbits swore later that it was just the wind hampering their efforts.  But the wiser ones knew.

"The hobbits retreated and quickly regrouped.  There was only one choice left to them.  They would have to burn the trees.  

"Many were against the idea.  It had been a dry year, and there was a great risk that the fire would burn out of control.  It was a very real possibility that all of Buckland could burn, maybe even much of the Shire.  And winter was coming on soon.  But the hobbits had no other choice.  The trees could not be reasoned with—how do you reason with an angry tree?  So they gathered together as many of the branches as they could, and all their winter firewood that had been stored, and they built a large bonfire just east of the hedge, where hundreds of trees had been cleared earlier.

"Once the fire started, the trees began to retreat.  Later it was said that you could sense the fear and anger in the air.  Everyone, large and small, grabbed a torch and started throwing them into the Forest, catching them on fire.  As I mentioned before, it had been a dry year.  The trees lit up like fireplace logs during Yule.  There was the sound of howling and screeching that, at the time, was thought to be the wind.  The Forest burned for hours until finally the rains came and put it out.  The place where the bonfire burned is now called the Bonfire Glade, and no tree has ever grown there since."

Saradoc looked at Merry, who by this time had climbed to the front and was seated next to him, completely riveted by the story.  His eyes were large with awe.

Slowly Saradoc spoke.  "It took a long time for the hobbits to feel at peace again, Merry.  For many days and nights after the attack they would post watches at the hedge, to make sure the trees didn't come close again.  We daren't go much past the hedge now, only to the Bonfire Glade, and _never_ alone.  The trees hate us, Merry, and their memories are long.  They hate us for what we did to them in defense of our homes."

Here Saradoc looked hard at Merry.  "You must promise me, son, that you will _never_ go into the Forest alone.  Ever.  I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

Merry felt a lump in his throat.  He knew how rare it was for his father to say how much he meant to him.  Merry couldn't stand to disappoint him.

"I promise, Da," Merry choked.  He threw his arms around Saradoc and hugged him fiercely.  

Later that night, Merry lay in bed thinking about the long ago battle for Buckland.  He wondered what it had been like, to fight for your home, for Buckland.  Indeed for the whole Shire.  What brave hobbits they had been!  He wondered if he would ever be so courageous.  He quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the window and looked out towards the Brandywine.  Would he ever have a real adventure, such as the one in the Old Forest?  He wished he could go to the Glade and see it for himself, but he had promised his Da.  And he would not break his trust.  

He sighed and crawled back into bed.  Perhaps tomorrow his Da would take him.  After all, he didn't say that Merry couldn't go into the Forest at all, just not alone.  Maybe if his father were with him…or perhaps his uncle Paladin… 

With these last thoughts Merry finally fell asleep.


End file.
